


Have some chocolate

by CoBe_Y



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Quidditch, angry Oliver Wood, have some chocolate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:21:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26747290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoBe_Y/pseuds/CoBe_Y
Summary: It's quidditch season, and Oliver is hellbent on winning the cup this year. Though, he starts to lose hope after a particularly bad training. George tries to cheer him up.(Inspired by something said on my favourite podcast: Fanatical Fics and where to find them)
Relationships: George Weasley/Oliver Wood
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	Have some chocolate

Oliver was pacing through the dressing room, already dressed in his quidditch robes, as the rest of his team walked in. They were drenched and slouching, grumbling about having to get up early to train in this horrid weather. Most of them, anyway. The twins were cheery as ever, loudly joking around.   
"Very funny lads, could you please hurry up? We've got a lot of training to do if we want to beat Hufflepuff." Oliver pushed. "I expect all of you dressed and ready on the field in two minutes." Harry groaned tiredly, Angelina huffed something about wanting to throw something at Oliver's face, but he turned around full of energy and ready for a good training. Not waiting for his teammates to finish getting ready he stepped out of the dressing room and into the pouring rain. Within seconds he was soaked to the bone, but nothing could ruin his mood. He breathed in the air contently. Being out on the quidditch pitch was the best moment of his day. Nope, nothing could possibly break his spirit.  
~~~  
"Well that certainly did it." Oliver angrily mumbled to himself before raising his voice. "Alicia could you please escort Katie to the hospital wing, thank you. Fred, Angelina, could you get the balls? Harry. Fred. You can go." He gritted his teeth and pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to permanently erease the memory of the absolutely horrible training. Maybe even the worst one he'd ever had to witness.   
"SHIT!" He yelled as he kicked the ground. Then he rubbed his hands over his face and tried to steady his breathing. The cold raindrops falling onto the back of his neck helped him cool down a little but after a few moments they began annoying him. After checking if Fred and Angelina had not left anything on the pitch he grabbed his broom and walked towards the dressing room with a sigh. His wet hair was stuck to his forehead and water was dripping down from it. He didn't look up as he entered the dressing room, not wanting to see his teammates. He walked towards where his clothes were laying and started undressing with his back turned to the other people in the room. He heard whispering at the other side of the room but he was too disgruntled to care, as he grabbed a towel and started drying off his soaked hair. He heard people leaving the room and peeked around to see everyone had left. Well, everyone except for George. Before Oliver could ask him what he was still doing here, and why he hadn't gotten out of his soaked quidditch gear yet George spoke.  
"You want some?" He asked as he held out a chocolate bar towards the older boy.   
"Erm.. No thanks." Oliver replied, harsher than he'd intended. George didn't seem fazed by his rudeness though. Insted, he grinned and said, "I swear it's just regular chocolate, if that's what you're worried about." Oliver couldn't help but smile, a little reluctantly, at the other boy.   
"No it's-" He sighed. "Sure, whatever." With a shrug he walked over to George and took the chocolate. He was still grumpy and mad about the ruined training, but something about his smile had convinced Oliver to accept the offer. As he took a bite of the chocolate he instantly felt somewhat better. He noticed he'd been frowning, and relaxed his face. He took another bite of chocolate and felt his shoulders relax a bit too as well. He looked up at George and answered his smile.  
"Thanks, George. That really helped."  
"Oh, don't thank me. I learned it from professor Lupin. Apparently chocolate is a great remedy for when you're feeling down." Oliver handed the chocolate back with a slightly embarrassed smile. Had he been that obviously upset? Yes, he instantly knew, he had been. His cheeks turned a bit red as he walked back across the room. He turned his back towards George again and started taking off the rest of his soaked quidditch gear. After drying the particularly wet parts of his body with the towel he grabbed his pants and started putting them on. As he was dressing his thoughts went back to the quidditch training and before he knew it he was back to his grumpy mumbling. As he sat down to put on his socks George sat down next to him. George was, still, in his soaking gear.  
"Why aren't you changing? You'll catch a cold, y'know?" Oliver gumbled to the boy next to him.  
"Hmm, I was just enjoying the view." Oliver froze for a second and looked over George. He'd expected to see him with his usual mischievious grin plastered on his face, giddy because of the daring joke he'd just made. Instead he saw a George with a rather shy look on his face. Shy but determined, and a blush was creeping up his neck. Oliver was completely lost for words as he looked into Georges brown eyes. He opened his mouth, and closed it again.   
"You shouldn't worry about quidditch so much, you know." George said, as he gave Oliver a little shove to the side. Oliver opened his mouth again, regaining his ability to speak as the subject changed to quidditch. But before he could say anything about the upcoming match with Hufflepuff, and how dare he because quidditch is a very serious business, George spoke again.  
"I think a proper snog could help you get your mind off things." As Oliver tried to make sure he'd heard him right, he saw the other boy's eyes shimmer with an excitement that could only mean he had.   
"What?" He whispered, still having his eyes locked with George's.   
"Oh come on Wood, you heard me. I reckon I could." His expression was similar to when he'd joked around earlier that morning, but there was something else in there too. Oliver sat up straight and leaned a bit towards George.  
"You, you're being serious. You mean it, don't you?" His eyes were drilling into George's trying to find a hint of bluff, or anything that would prove the opposite. But as he was sitting there, staring into his eyes, so dangerously close to him that droplets of water from George's soaking wet hair dropped onto his hand, he realised. And as he did, he felt his stomach flutter. Carefully he placed a hand on the boy's cheek, seeing how he would react, if he would change his mind, but he just smiled eagerly. And so he returned his smile, and softly, sweetly, pressed his lips against George's.


End file.
